A.N.: I said I would use the POV of secondary characters when necessary

A Great Deception

My life has been a non-stop go since the end of the Eve's War. I wasn't granted much "off time" after I was rescued from Dekim Barton because the world of politics never stops for anything or anyone. It was barely over a week after that that I returned back to work, started to formulate new legislature, make a solid decision to back or deny certain views of other leaders based on their merit and policies, and regain my status as a formidable figure. Not formidable in the sense of fear or impressive power, but formidable in my capability to have my dreams of the future become visions and ultimately, a reality.

I won't go down quietly. I refuse to make extreme compromises that undermine my goals. I will not let the stereotypes of my gender define me as political figure. I've come this far and I can't give up now. Especially, after the Gundam pilots have fought and killed for my cause, a horrible reality that I don't want any future generations to experience. I'm not stupid. I know the wars of my lifetime won't be the last, but I can set up an infrastructure that might be able to hinder future upheavals, get close to an utopian society as feasibly possible. I can and will do my best to create a peaceful world.

As much as I love my career, I do miss having some sort of normalcy. And I do miss the Gundam boys, even though I was only ever close to Heero.

Gosh I miss him so much, and I wish I didn't. I'd be a liar if I said I didn't love him, but I know that can never, will never be a reality. He's a solider. He needs a life of action and constant purpose. He'll never be able to sit back and stay in one place for long. Besides that, he seemed to a have strong bond with the Deathscythe pilot, Duo Maxwell. For a boy of few words, he'd bring up that braided warrior as frequently as possible. It started off as complaining about his annoying banter and slowly turned to basic sharing between the two of us with a whimsical touch. That's when I started to realize that whether he was straight, bisexual, or gay, he'd go after Duo before me. But that doesn't matter now. I just hope we can be friends along the way. Heck, it's been two years, I've moved on.

In fact, we were pretty good at staying in contact after he rescued me because he stuck by my side to train my guards. I cherish the months he was physically close and it hurt more when he moved to L1 and slowly disappeared from my life. I should have seen that coming. But I didn't. I thought if I didn't demand more than simple friendship from him he'd stay a permanent figure in my life, but I was wrong. He slowly inched away; stopped returning my calls, didn't want to video-call, and never returned my e-mails. When he did reach out to me, I was elated and I tried not to be so thrilled when it happened.

Lo and behold when he finally contacted me via e-mail and asked to take up secret residency in my home, I agreed right away. My brother had informed me of his change in behavior and possible corruption, but I couldn't turn him – Heero, my savior, my hero – away. That strong boy had been my saving grace, my light at the end of a long dark tunnel for so long that I simply couldn't tell him that he wasn't welcome in my home. Also, I didn't really believe what Milliardo had told me, it seemed too far-fetched. But then again, I remembered the last videoconference we had and Heero seemed so out of sorts, and I thought he'd been drunk, but now I was questioning that assumption. Regardless, that Japanese boy would always be welcome into my house.

I got his brief e-mail during a delegation, and like high school student, I messaged him back on my phone that was hidden from view under the table. We did the usually niceties, "How are you," blah, blah, blah, and it eventually led to me telling him that he would find refuge in the confines of my estate.

I knew he wouldn't have any problems sneaking onto my property since he designed my security system, but I waited up in anticipation for his appearance anyways.

When he entered through my balcony doors I felt my heart drop.

This wasn't the Heero I knew. He was gaunt, pale, sweaty and tired. This was a shell of the boy who'd fought for me and saved the world. I always assumed he'd just be fine on his own, but apparently and sadly, I was wrong again. The rumors were true. He'd become a drug addict. And if I couldn't tell at first glance, the wiry, enhanced veins on is arms marred by round puncture indents would have proved the hearsay true.

Leaping from the edge of my bed I marched right up to him, clutched his face in both hands, and dumbly asked: "What happened to you?" – As if I didn't already know.

His skinny fingers wrapped around my wrist, pulled my palms from his face, his eyes so ashamed and lost as he whispered, "I haven' been doin' so well."

"Tell me what's going on," I begged, re-cupped his face and stroked his cheekbone with my thumb. I needed to know. I really needed to know what had happened to him because I didn't know what sort of narcotics he'd gotten tangled up with. Before seeing him, I guessed it was something light, like marijuana and that my brother was blowing it out of portion to change my perception of Heero since he hates his guts. But now I know the truth. This is far worse than a Class D drug or abuse of a prescribed medication.

"Jus a bun' of shi'. Maybe I'll tell ya 'bout it 'morrow," he slurred.

I places him in the bedroom to the left of mine after having a brief – albeit one sided – discussion about my brother taking over the security detail, and the next morning I informed my maids that this guest was to remain top-secret, and to give him whatever he wished for while I was gone during the day. But just to be safe, I had the maid leave his breakfast in my room and then I transported the meal to his room. As I placed the silver tray of food on one of the nightstands, I noticed that an array of stuff was displayed on the other stand on the side of the bed closest to Heero. I had been wondering why he didn't shoot upright in the bed when I entered, but seeing the drugs made me realize that whatever he was involved in put him under into a heavy slumber. His beside is littered with one needle, an open plastic baggie of black gooey shit, a spoon, and cotton balls.

What is this stuff?

I don't get an answer until I return to his bedroom after finishing a long day of work, continuing that work in my home office, and driving myself into my responsibilities long after nine o'clock. I rapped on his door lightly and wait for him to give me permission to enter.

I come into the room, sit on the edge of the bed and wait for him to say something – taking notice that the drug stuff on his night stand is now gone. He doesn't speak so I go ahead and say, "Heero, When did you start…star-start that doing that?"

"Using heroin?" he points out in a question like it's not big deal, and I feel my body lax in disbelief, shoulders slump, and my heart plummet through the floor boards.

"That's what that stuff is?!" I cry with tear building up in my eyes. Dear god, please don't let this be true!

He nods his head, eyes glaring at the carpet floor and I can tell he's ashamed, but that doesn't help.

"Heero, why are you doing this?" I beg to know.

He responds with a shrug of the shoulders.

Thinking fast, I ramble, "Look, it- it's alright. We can get you help. We can find a secluded rehab, you can use a fake name, and we can get you the help and care you need."

"No, no, I don't want help," he claims while shaking his head and patting my hand in what is supposed to be a comforting manner.

"But why?"

"I don't want to stop," he says with the assertion of an unmovable force.

The tears that vanished refill my eyes as I push, "If you keep doing this, you'll die."

He shrugs again and I lose my cool. My hand flies through the air with a mind of its own and smacks him across the face. There's no way for me to apologize for my actions, so rather than trying to justify myself, I ask loudly, "Just because you don't give a fuck about your damn life, doesn't mean others don't! What would Duo or the pilots think of this?!"

"He already knows," Heero whispers whilst rubbing his reddened cheek.

"He does, does he?"

"And so does Wufei," he adds.

"And they haven't tried to stop you?" I ask astonished.

"I wasn't around them long enough to give them a chance to speak their mind…but I would have said the same thing to them."

If he's not going to listen to my advice or wishes then there's no point in for me trying to prove him otherwise. At the door I turn to him and say over my shoulder, "This talk isn't over."

The talk wasn't over, but each night he assured me that he wasn't going to change and that he was happier blitzed out of his mind. What happened to the boy I loved? If anything, his current state reinforces my desire that no one go through the travesties of war. Clearly the whole ordeal was far more damning than I ever thought. If it led a resilient person like Heero to the undergrounds of drugs then how would others survive past the battlefield?

Each night I tried to convince him he was better off without the drugs, and each night I failed. It didn't help any that he was already high when I entered his room. The heroin put him in a lull, made it hard for him to focus. A few times I stayed with him well into the early hours of the morning keeping him company because he asked me not to leave. Despite him being inebriated I was glad he came to me, and I continue to hold hope that if he sticks around for a while longer I'll be able to break through to him and get him to agree to rehab.

About a week later,I'm sitting in my office with my nose buried in a pile of documents when my telephone rings. I eye it suspiciously before picking it up. No body ever gets directly through to my personal extension without talking to my assistant first, and he's suppose to inform me of who is calling and why. Lifting the phone, I answer with a polite: "Hello?"

"Relena?" an unfamiliar voice asks.

"Who is this?"

"It's Chang Wufei."

"Wufei," I say softly leaning back in my chair like a deflated balloon.

He goes on hastily, "I need your help."

"I need yours too." Maybe he can help me get through to Heero.

"With what?" he asks concerned.

"With Heero," I answer.

"What's he doing?"

"Nothing! I can-can't tell you over the phone you just have to get here."

"How?"

Thinking quick, I give him the same route of entrance that I gave to Heero: "I'll disable the doors to my balcony. Avoid the men patrolling my estates grounds and you'll be free to enter."

"I'm with someone," he informs.

"Who?"

"Barton."

"That's fine," I sigh in relief. "The two of you come and help me with him."

I hang up the phone quickly, rest my elbows on my desk, and cradle my forehead in my hands. With Heero around I've been pretty distracted from my work, but hopefully with the three of us we'll be able to get through Heero's thick skull and persuade him to sober up. Trying to get back to work, I pick up my pen and am about to resume reading when my brother comes marching in. He's been checking up on me more and more lately. Because of him, I have to be very careful with hiding Heero. I don't know what Milliardo will do if he finds out I've been harboring Heero in the bedroom next to mine.

My brother sits across from me, folds one leg over the other at the knee, and pierces me with his steady gaze. Is he onto me?

"How's work going?" he asks me sternly.

"Fine," I chirp, forcing a cheery disposition. "Got a lot of it, so I should get back to it."

"You've seemed a bit distracted and tired lately," he points out.

"Yeah, maybe I should take a vacation soon. Give my mind a break."

Milliardo shifts in a seat a little and penetrates me with that glare again. "Have you heard from Yuy recently?" he questions.

"Nope. Why?"

"The Preventers are looking for him. He's to be detained upon finding."

"Why ever would they want to arrest him?" I ask squeakily, unable to hide my surprise. Damn, I have such an awful poker face.

"We have reason to believe he's involved in a drug ring," he answers nonchalantly.

"Well that can't be true. Heero would never do something like that," I mumble, looking down at the pile of papers on my desk, wondering if it could be true.

"I'm not so sure, but if he contacts you, you'll tell me, right?" My brother's blue eyes bore into me.

"Of course," I lie.

He leaves my office and I can't help but worry even more. Heero couldn't have fallen that far down the rabbit hole…right?

After a long day of work I visit with Heero briefly, but he's too stoned to carry a conversation so I can't really ask him about what Milliardo told me. I keep myself busy until midnight with extra work, and finally there's the knock on my balcony door that I've been waiting for. Peaking out the door, I see the person I've been anticipating.

"Wufei, I'm so glad you're here!" I whisper and pull him into a tight hug. I almost forgot abouth his friend, so when I turn my attention to him I give him a hug as well. "Trowa, it's good to see you too."

I usher them into my bedroom, sit on the edge of my bed and begin to gush: "I'm so happy you're both here. I don't know what to do about Heero. He won't listen to me. I'm at my wits end."

"Heero?" Trowa asks, confused. "Relena, we aren't here for Heero. Wufei and I are looking for Quatre. He's gone off the grid since being removed as CEO of his father's company."

"Oh, I'm sorry, but I have no idea where Quatre is. I haven't seen him since that banquet I threw a few months back," I reply a little disheartened. I heard about Quatre's news and was overwhelmingly shocked that the board of WEI made him step down from his position.

"Yeah, that's the last time I saw him in person as well," Wufei adds.

Trowa exasperates while plopping onto a chair in the corner of my room, "Great, just fucking great."

"Calm down, Trowa. We knew this was a long shot," Wufei scolds or soothes, I can't tell which.

He pushes himself off the chair and starts to pace the room anxiously. "No! I won't calm down! It shouldn't be this hard! We should have found him already!"

"That's a ridiculous claim and you know it. Quatre is one person hiding in the throngs of the universe and we don't even know if he's on Earth or not. If you continue to think this way you'll only end up getting more upset and blind to what new assets we have," reprimands Wufei.

"What assets?"

"You're here and now you've got my help," I jump in, mildly befuddled over why it's so important for Trowa to find Quatre. I guess he wants to be a good friend.

"And Yuy, too," Wufei states further. "I'm sure they have resources that can helps us narrow our search down."

I point out sadly, "I don't know how much help Heero will be. He's a different person now. He only cares about getting high. He doesn't even look the same. It's terrifying to see what he's done to himself."

"Do you know how he got involved with it?" Trowa asks, turning his green eyes on me.

"He won't tell me anything."

The discussion ends shortly after that and I sneak them over into the next room. They'll have to bunk with Heero. I don't want to take up any more space in my home because my brother will have a greater chance of discovering them if they're spread out in multiple rooms. They don't seem to mind and Trowa looks like he's mostly asleep on his feet. The two of them must not be getting a decent amount of rest.

The next day everything seems to be going fine during my morning routine, but when I get into my car I notice Pagan isn't behind the wheel.

"Who are yo-" I begin to ask but am cut off by my brother entering the back of the vehicle beside me. "Milliardo! What's going on?"

"My Agent is going to take you to work today while I and the rest of my team extract the three fugitives you've got stored in your home," he informs me as he rips my cell phone out of my hands and destroys the car phone by bashing it in with his fist.

"Stop it!" I shout. "You can't do this! They haven't done anything!"

"Former Lieutenant Chang Wufei escaped from custody with the help of the man known as Trowa Barton, and you already know what that little shit Heero has been up to. And if you think for a second I didn't know about his presence in your home, you're a very stupid girl! I gave you the opportunity to tell me yesterday and you failed to do so. I'm very disappointed with you," he scolds me like a child, gets out of my car and slams the door.

I try to get out after him, but the driver locks the doors and speeds away.

I can't believe this! I can't fucking believe he would do this and speak to me that way! He doesn't know them the way I do! My own brother has betrayed me and questioned my judgment after all I have done. I don't know if I'll be able to forgive him for this great deception.

The driver keeps me as his hostage for the entire workday by aimlessly driving and circling around the city. Close to five o'clock in the afternoon the asshole takes me back to my home and I stomp inside to find my brother. Bursting through his office doors I find him standing there waiting for me.

The first thing I do is slap him as hard as I can across the face and scream, "What the fuck is the matter with you?! You're driver kept him in the car all goddamn day! I haven't eaten or gone to the bathroom since this morning!"

"I'm sor-" he tries to say but I interrupt.

"Where did you send them? I want them released right now!"

"They aren't locked up."

"Then where are they?"

"I wasn't given their location, but they're fine and they have all they need."

"I don't want you on my guard anymore! You're fired!"

"You don't have the authority to fire me!"

"Yes. I. Do." I seethe. "I'm going to call Une right now, so you best start packing!" And with that I turn and leave. If I had stayed any longer in Milliardo's presence I'd have started to cry and the last thing I want is for him to see me as weak, but the tears fall heavily on my frantic walk back to my bedroom.